


Before You Know It

by To_Write_Is_Might



Category: Heart of Iron - Ashley Poston
Genre: Gen, Prequel, Spoilers, well kind of spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-23
Updated: 2018-03-23
Packaged: 2019-04-06 22:02:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14066529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/To_Write_Is_Might/pseuds/To_Write_Is_Might
Summary: ***Slight spoiler warning***Nicholii Armorov, the prince of the Iron Kingdom, says a "see you later" that feels more like a "goodbye forever." And he's not wrong.





	Before You Know It

_ Twenty Years Ago _

 

The slash didn’t seem deep. In truth, Nicholii hadn’t thought much of it until his mother unsubtly pointed out the blood seeping through his dinner jacket. He’d had every intention of shrugging it off and finishing his meal, but his parents stared at him down their noses. Wordlessly, they refused to take another bite of their dinners until he saw to his wound.

The nineteen-year-old prince grumbled to himself as he paced through the halls of the Iron Castle. It was careless on his part, he thought. One glance at his fiancée--Selena had laughed at something, so it wasn’t really his fault--and Mercer Valerio managed to score him with his lightsword.

_ Careful, _ Mercer had laughed.  _ If a pretty girl can turn your head in battle, I fear for the kingdom. _ And Nicholii had launched back at his friend with a rumbling cry.

So now he was injured. But what was worse, his friends would never let him hear the end of it.

He sighed before he knocked on the infirmary door. A yelp sounded from inside, followed by a few clinking glasses. Finally, the door swung open. Shock colored the boy’s face at first, followed by a sort of amused annoyance. “What did you do?” The medic’s red hair hung into his face, and, as Nicholii watched, he pulled it back into a tail.

“No hello?” Nicholii shouldered his way inside. “I’m hurt.”

“If it’s pomp and circumstance you want, you’ve come to the wrong place.” Dmitri Rasovant quirked an eyebrow and folded his arms. He was awfully good at looking stern. Especially with those cheekbones he’d gotten from his father. Nicholii’s own face was well-angled, but nowhere near as sharp as the Rasovant men.

“I’ll ask again,” Dmitri said. “What did you do, Your Highness?”

“Goddess, stop that.” Nicholii rolled his eyes, and Dmitri’s stern facade crumbled into a winning smile. Nicholii held up his arm. “Here.”

“I hear no request.” Dmitri put up his hands and busied himself at his cabinets again, sifting through the bottles and books. “So I will do no work.”

Nicholii poked the inside of his own cheek with his tongue. “Rasovant.” Dmitri turned around, a smirk playing on his lips. “Fix me? Please?”

Dmitri laughed. “Much better,” he conceded. “I don’t think anyone in this verse can fix you, though, my friend.” But he grabbed Nicholii’s hand, his moonlit blue-gray eyes flicking over the wound. “Mercer?” he guessed.

“No one else could land a blow to me.”

“Wicked,” Dmitri murmured.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Dmitri dug his thumbnail into his lower lip. “You’re going to need sutures. You need to start taking better care of yourself, Nic,” he said. He grabbed a swab of cotton and deftly cleaned the wound before he uncapped a suture pen. “One day you’re really going to hurt yourself.”

“Well, I’m in luck, then,” Nicholii said, trying not to wince at the sting.

“Why’s that?”

“Because I’m always going to have you to patch me up.”

“True.” Dmitri laughed, but it was hollow. He hesitated. “Well. Maybe not always.”

“Huh?” The prince glanced at the medic’s bowed head. He couldn’t see Dmitri’s eyes. A stray lock of red hair fell into his face. Nicholii reached over and tucked it behind his friend’s ear. Then he remembered. “Wait. The post.”

Dmitri said nothing, but his shoulder twitched.

“You got the post?” Nicholii blinked. “You did, didn’t you? The one in the outskirts?”

“I did,” Dmitri said.

“Huh,” Nicholii said again.

“Mm.”

“When did you find out?” Nicholii’s arm burned, and he struggled not to flinch.

“They sent word this morning.”

“Why didn’t you say something earlier?” They’d lunched on the veranda, just the two of them, for the first time in a while.

Dmitri shrugged. “Wasn’t a good time.”

Frustration bubbled underneath Nicholii’s skin, but he tempered it. “Alright.”

Dmitri glanced up. “You know, a little excitement for me would be welcome, Nic,” he said. “Especially since I have a pen in your arm.”

It was a fair point. “I’m happy for you,” Nicholii forced out. “I am. That’s great.”

“Thank you.” Dmitri tied off the sutures and wrapped the arm in a bandage. He nodded at his work.

The threat of death-by-pen was avoided, so Nicholii could speak openly again.

“However,” Nicholii said.

Dmitri groaned. “Here we go.”

“What does your father think of all this?” Nicholii asked.

Dmitri froze for a moment, then smiled. “He’s proud,” he said. “Proud. So proud. As  _ you _ should be,” he added.

“Am I not allowed to be worried about you?” Nicholii snapped. “It’s the outskirts.”

“It’s our kingdom,” Dmitri corrected. “They’re still our people. And someone has to help them. This virus is decimating entire societies.” He narrowed his eyes. “You’re not changing my mind on this, Nic.”

“I didn’t think I could.” Nicholii rubbed the back of his neck. “When do you leave?”

Dmitri hesitated. “Tomorrow, actually.”

“Tomorrow?” Nicholii cried. “Tomorrow. Goddess,” he muttered. “When were you  _ going _ to tell me?”

Dmitri’s pale skin paled further. “Tomorrow,” he admitted, voice small.

When Nicholii stared at him with fury in his gold-brown eyes, he put up his palms. “You know I’m awful at goodbyes.”

Nicholii’s lip curled before he softened. It was hard to stay angry with him. “I know. I just… I just wish it could wait a few days.”

“These people are dying. They can’t wait a few days. So neither can I.” Dmitri pinched the bridge of his nose. “See, this is why I hate goodbyes.”

“I thought you were just bad at them.”

“That too.” Dmitri sighed. “Please, try to understand.”

“Oh, I understand just fine!” Nicholii said. “I’m not an idiot, Dima.”

Dmitri grimaced. “You know I hate that nickname.”

“No, you don’t.” Nicholii reached over and pinched Dmitri’s cheek. “You love it,  _ Dima _ .”

“A year ahead of me, and you think you can treat me like I’m five,” Dmitri grumbled.

“For the rest of your life.” Nicholii tugged on his friend’s hair. After a while, when Nicholii showed no sign of stopping his assault on Dmitri’s hair, the medic cracked a smile. “Ah! There we are!” Nicholii laughed.

“Annoying prick,” Dmitri chuckled.

Nicholii grinned and rested his bandaged elbow on Dmitri’s head. “That’s  _ prince _ annoying prick.” His smile faltered. “I’m going to miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too. But these people--”

“Need the best damned medic in the Iron Kingdom. So naturally, you need to go.” He sighed. “I just wish you didn’t have to.”

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic,” Dmitri snorted. “We’re going to eradicate this virus. And I’ll be back before you know it.”

“Before my wedding, I hope,” Nicholii said.

“Someone has to object on Selena’s behalf.”

Nicholii didn’t laugh. “And before Mercer’s son is born?”

“I wasn’t going to be delivering him anyway. Why does that matter?”

“It… Just be safe out there, okay?”

“I’m a medic. Safety is in the job description.” But Dmitri rested his forehead against Nicholii’s; an oddly comforting gesture. “It’ll be fine, Nic. I’ll be back before you know it,” he repeated.

“Right.” Nicholii’s stomach rumbled. There was no excusing it. “I... should get back to dinner.”

“Go,” Dmitri chuckled. He shoved the prince’s shoulder. Nicholii made his way out into the hall, but turned back. Dmitri leaned on the doorframe. His hair fell into his face, and he flashed a bright smile. “Goodnight, Nic. And…” He hesitated. “And goodbye. For now,” he added quickly.

“For now,” Nicholii echoed. “May the stars keep you steady, and the iron keep you safe.” He sighed. “Goodnight, Dima.”

Dmitri laughed softly, then glanced over his shoulder. He’d been packing, Nicholii realized. The bottles clinking. The books in disarray. He should’ve realized. Goddess, he should’ve realized. Worry gripped his heart. He’d heard rumors about the virus, and how awful it was. He thought maybe he should talk to his father. The Emperor could surely sway the medics to let Dmitri stay…

No. He couldn’t. Dima would never forgive him. And he would rather have Dmitri Rasovant as a friend in danger than an enemy in safety.  _ Goddess, keep him safe. _ He curled a crescent over his heart.

“Goodbye,” Nicholii whispered. But the infirmary door was already closed.

**Author's Note:**

> So Heart of Iron made me Feel Things. I haven't wanted to write fanfiction since Legend of Korra. Season ONE of Legend of Korra. This is what I came up with. Short and bittersweet.
> 
> Thanks for the feels, Ash.
> 
> May the stars keep you steady and the iron keep you safe.


End file.
